The Best Man
by DobbyRocksSocks
Summary: Harry is her rock, her angel. When Hermione's happily ever after goes wrong, he's the one that's there to help pick up the pieces. Rated for language.


**Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.**

 **Word Count -** 2717

* * *

 **The Best Man**

* * *

"You look stunning," he murmured, a small smile on his face. "Theo won't know what's hit him."

She blushed prettily, arranging the skirts of her dress to fall elegantly around her. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, her eyes shifting to the clock every few seconds.

Minutes of being Hermione Granger were all she had left. Soon, she would be Hermione Nott, wife of Theodore Nott.

"Are you ready for this?" Harry asked solicitously, double checking his own appearance in the mirror. Hermione almost scoffed at him when he pulled a face at his terminally messy hair, running a hand through it in a pointless attempt at control.

Instead she nodded her head, her veil tickling her shoulders as she did.

"I'll give your father a shout, and hunt Ginny and Luna down. Bloody bridesmaids," he added, rolling his eyes. "If you ever get married again, promise me you won't have bridesmaids?"

Hermione giggled. "I don't intend to repeat this experience, Harry. It's been painful enough this time around."

Harry chuckled, nodding his head as he left the room.

Hermione sighed. She didn't know how she would have got through the planning of her wedding, which Theo insisted on being the event of the year, without Harry. Wayward bridesmaids had been the least of her worries, and he'd been an angel, always there with a cocktail or a doughnut, a smile or a joke.

As her father walked into the room, tears welling in his eyes as he took in the vision his daughter made, she offered up a bright smile.

It was time to get married.

* * *

 _"You do not have to say anything but it may harm your defence if you do not mention, when questioned, something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence."_

Hermione watched with growing horror as her groom was pulled out of the church in handcuffs, fighting against the police holding him. As her legs threatened to collapse from under her, a strong arm wrapped around her waist, holding her up.

It took her a few moments, but the familiar, comforting cologne told her that Harry was holding her up, as the whispers gained volume with every passing second. She could feel the eyes of everyone in the church on her; something she should be feeling for an entirely different reason.

"Come on, sweetheart," Harry whispered in her ear, pulling her to the side, off the dais and into a small anti-chamber. As soon as they were out of view of the guests, Hermione fell apart in Harry's arms, tears streaking down her perfectly applied make up, her happiness forgotten.

"Why was he arrested?" she hiccuped. "What's he supposed to have done?"

Harry stroked her hair softly, a sigh escaping him. "Possession with the intent to supply. I don't know any more than that."

Hermione shook her head against Harry's chest. "Theo isn't a drug dealer! I would have known, I mean, Harry… I would've known!"

"I don't know, darling, any more than you do. I'll go and get your mum and dad and see what I can find out for you, okay?"

She nodded. "Thank you. I don't… What am I going to do, Harry?"

"We'll sort it out, Hermione. Just… try and stay calm, okay?"

* * *

Harry shook his head with disbelief. "How am I supposed to tell Hermione that?" he asked, though it was rhetorical.

Draco shrugged, a sympathetic look on his face. "Honestly? I've no idea. This is going to break her."

"Not if I can help it," Harry vowed. "Theo better hope he gets prison time," he added darkly, his eyes almost crackling with anger.

"With the amount of product they found in his storage container, I don't think there's a chance he'll get anything but prison time," Draco assured Harry. "From what I've found out, Theo Nott is one of the most prolific dealers in London. He's the one that deals to the smaller dealers."

"Fucking hell," Harry muttered, rubbing a hand over his temple. "How didn't we spot this? We all wondered where he was getting the money to fund the wedding, I mean, I know you pay well, Draco, but…"

Draco nodded his agreement, taking a sip from his whiskey. Harry stared at the glass longingly for a moment. He'd do almost anything to take the edge off with a stiff drink at the moment, but Hermione was waiting for him.

"I assumed he'd inherited when his Father died," Draco said quietly. "I had no idea he was doing anything like this. It's… unconscionable."

Harry stood up, patting Draco on the shoulder. "Let me know if you hear anything else, okay?"

"Of course," Draco agreed, patting Harry's back. "Look after Hermione."

Harry offered up a tired smile. "Always."

* * *

"Bit of a difference, isn't it?"

Harry blinked, confused for a second, before he caught up. Hermione had changed from her wedding gown in the time he'd been away, instead wearing a tracksuit and Uggs, all the make up washed from her face and her hair in a messy ponytail.

Harry could still see the marks on her cheeks from her tears.

"You still look stunning," he replied, walking further into the room. "Do you want to know what I've found out, or do you just want the spark notes?"

"Spark notes," Hermione decided after a moment. "I'll want to know everything at some point but right now… I don't know if I can handle it."

"Theo is a somewhat prolific drug dealer. From what Draco said, he's almost definitely going to go to prison."

Hermione shook her head. "How did I not know?"

Harry's heart broke at the lost and broken tone. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight to his chest.

"He was very good at keeping his two lives separate," he told her quietly. "None of us knew, it wasn't just you he fooled, darling."

"I feel like an idiot," she admitted, wiping her face impatiently as more tears dropped onto her cheeks.

"That is the very last thing anyone could describe you as," Harry argued. "Come on. We'll go home, get drunk, watch shit tv, and chill."

Hermione smiled slightly. "Not quite the wedding night I anticipated, but that sounds… like just what I need. What would I do without you?"

As they left the hotel room, Hermione's bag in Harry's hand, his other arm around her shoulders, Harry replied, "You'll never have to find out. I'll call Ginny in the morning and have her come with me to your flat to collect some stuff. My spare room is yours for as long as you want it."

Hermione frowned. "Where is she? I lost track of her from the church, but she was already half drunk then."

"Oh, she's probably half naked somewhere in public as we speak," he replied airily, leading her to the car. He opened the passenger door for her as she let out a weak chuckle.

He'd help her through this. She'd been his rock for so many years, it was time for him to return the favour.

* * *

"He's been remanded," Draco informed him crisply. "From what his lawyer said, he's copping a plea deal for pleading guilty. He'll get six to eight years instead of ten to twelve."

Harry glanced over at the sofa where Hermione was sleeping. He'd had to take her wine glass from her hand, lest she spill it all over herself, but now that she was finally asleep, he was loathe to wake her. She'd been awake most of the night, crying and ranting intermittently, and had only fallen asleep as the sun broke the horizon.

"That's… something, I suppose. I'm going to get hold of Ginny in a few hours, have her help me get some of Hermione's stuff from the flat. I don't want her going back there alone at the moment."

"Probably a good idea. You should probably phone the police station first though, check that you're allowed to remove things from the flat. They will almost certainly be searching it at some point."

Harry swore softly. "I'll do that first. Thanks Draco."

"Of course. I'll call you later once I have an update."

Ending the call, Harry quietly slipped out of the doors on to the veranda. It was warm out already, no matter that it was only early, but Harry couldn't quite find it in himself to appreciate the weather.

Now that the initial shock had worn off, and his innate need to look after Hermione had been taken care of, Harry could feel the familiar stirrings of righteous anger. He was angry at Theo for betraying Hermione so thoroughly, for hurting her, for not being the man she deserved. He was angry at himself for not noticing what Theo was doing, for not stopping Hermione from being hurt.

He was angry at the world for every last tear that had spilled from Hermione's eyes.

She was a wonderful woman, bright, caring, intelligent and beautiful, both inside and out. She was funny. She was kind.

Harry loved her wholly and completely. He'd been half in love with her from the day they met, though he'd long since accepted his relegation to the best friend position.

He only ever wanted her happiness.

Turning to look at her, Harry sighed. She was pale, and she looked so small, curled up as she was on the sofa. She looked… vulnerable.

Silently promising himself and her that he'd do anything to put the colour back in her cheeks and the smile back on her face, Harry entered the flat, locking the veranda doors and settled himself into his armchair, letting his eyes fall shut.

* * *

Hermione settled herself on the sofa, falling to the side so she was leaning into Harry. Pulling her legs up, she tilted her head to offer him a small smile.

It had been three weeks since her almost wedding, and she'd never realised quite how much she needed Harry Potter before. He'd been her rock, her angel, her comfort and her punching bag.

No matter how much she cried, screamed, raged and at one point even thrown a wine glass, he'd remained by her side, unwavering and strong.

"What do you want to watch?" he asked, lifting his arm to rest around her so she could cuddle closer into his side.

"Dirty Dancing," she replied promptly, making him groan. She giggled as he tickled her side.

"We've watched that film every single night this week. How many times can you drool over Patrick Swayze before you get bored?"

"You pick a movie then," she huffed, poking his side not too gently.

Harry rolled his eyes, before, with a few clicks on the remote, the opening bars of _Be My Baby_ sounded through the living room.

"Thank you," Hermione murmured, her head falling back against his shoulder.

"Hmm," Harry huffed. "Tomorrow, we're watching zombies."

* * *

"You look gorgeous," Harry complimented, gathering his car keys off the table.

Hermione blushed slightly but smiled her thanks. They were heading out for dinner and then onto a club with their friends, and she was nervous. It was the first time she'd been out since before the wedding.

"Why are you driving?" she asked, glancing over at Harry. He looked fantastic, and as he bent down to straighten his jean leg, she couldn't help but admire the fantastic view of his bum. "We can get a cab so you can have a drink."

"Ahh, I, uh…"

"You're not drinking because of me," she surmised, eyeing him shrewdly as he stood up and turned to look at her, a sheepish expression on his face.

"Well, I thought someone should probably stay sober; you know, just in case."

"I'm not going to fall apart, Harry," she promised, walking forward to take his hand in hers. "I love that you want to look after me, but really. I'm doing alright. The police probably helped me dodge a massive bullet by arresting Theo _before_ we got married."

Harry nodded. That was one thing he could definitely agree with.

"So, we'll take a cab, and you'll get pleasantly plastered with me, and we'll have a good night. Yes?"

Smiling, Harry pressed a kiss to her cheek before he pointedly put his keys on the table. "Deal. I love you, pretty girl."

"I love you too."

* * *

They fell into the flat together, giggling as they did. Harry had the mind to lock up behind them before he collapsed beside Hermione on the sofa. Glancing at the clock on the wall, he groaned.

It was just past three in the morning.

They'd had a brilliant night, though, and Harry had enjoyed watching Hermione let loose and have fun, much closer to the girl he remembered.

"Thank you," she whispered suddenly, breaking Harry's thoughts. He looked over at her, raising his eyebrow.

"F'what?"

"Bein' you," she replied. "Sh'd've jus' married you. Not Theo. Theo, is an asshole. You're… perfec'."

"You're drunk," he replied with a chuckle. "Come on, babycakes, bedtime."

Harry stood with only a little trouble before he pulled Hermione to her feet, leading her to her room. Leaving her there to get ready for bed, he walked to the kitchen, drinking a pint of water quickly before he poured a second and took the glass with him on his way back to her room.

Knocking briefly to make sure she was decent, Harry entered the room, putting the water on the bedside table.

Hermione sat up in the bed, latching onto his hand and pulling him towards her with surprising strength.

Before he could stop her, she pressed her lips to his in a sloppy and somewhat uncoordinated kiss.

"Hermione, stop," Harry murmured, pulling his head back. "We can't do this."

Unbuttoning his shirt clumsily, Hermione looked up at him through heavy lidded eyes. "Who told you that?"

"We've had too much to drink," he warned her. "You'll regret it in the morning if we do this."

"Nope," she disagreed, before she bit his chin. "I love you."

Harry shifted away from her, knowing that if he didn't, his resolve (which wasn't very strong to begin with) would break.

"Hermione, please," he begged. "Not now, not like this. Get some sleep, sweetheart."

Before she could protest, Harry left the room, closing the door behind him and leaning back against the wall.

He took a deep breath, shaking his head. He would do anything for Hermione, but be her rebound. He couldn't fix her by destroying himself.

* * *

Harry was slouched on the sofa in a tracksuit, idly flipping through channels on the tv when Hermione got up the following morning. Well, afternoon, as it was closer to one than twelve when she entered the living room.

Without looking up, Harry raised his arm to gesture her to come sit with him, and as she settled against him, he kissed her temple.

"Hangover?" he asked, a teasing lilt to his tone.

"From hell," Hermione confirmed. "I… I'm sorry. For last night. It was wrong of me to put you in that position."

Harry smiled, squeezing her gently. "It's not that I wasn't tempted, babe. I just… I can't be your rebound. It would… destroy everything. I love you too much to let that happen."

"I don't want a rebound," Hermione replied quietly. "I just… When I was with Theo, I thought I was happy. Now, living here with you, I know I wasn't. Not really. You make me feel safe and secure and loved. You make me happy. I just wanted to show you that."

"I do love you," Harry confirmed. "Maybe we could try that kiss again, without the aid of alcohol, huh?"

Hermione smiled, but Harry frowned when she stood up.

"Maybe after I've thrown up and brushed my teeth," Hermione muttered, a pained expression on her face as she fled to the bathroom.

Seconds later, Harry heard her retching and chuckled to himself as he stood to make himself useful and get her some water.

Stroking her back while she threw up, and holding her hair off her face, he couldn't help but think that if she was still the most beautiful woman in the world to him while in this state, they'd be just fine.

 _Fin_

* * *

 _ **Written for;**_

 _ **Hogwarts - Resurrect Romance Challenge ;**_ _Plot 7_

 _ **Hogwarts Writing Club; Days Of The Month; World Lion Day ;**_ _Write about a Gryffindor_

 _ **Hogwarts Writing Club; Showtime;**_ " _She's probably half naked somewhere in public as we speak."_

 _ **HPFC - 100 Ways To Say -**_ _45\. "What do you want to watch?"_

 _ **HPFC - Are You Crazy Enough -**_ _666\. Wine Glass_

 _ **HPFC - Friends Competition/Challenge -**_ _S3, EP13 - Write about Hermione._


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